Confessions
by TwiHardPotterHead
Summary: A fireplace, a quiet room and two friends... well are they? H/Hr; Harmony one-shot.


Training "Dumbledore's Army" had been far more tasking than Harry ever expected. The long hours spent in the Room of Requirement began interfering with his school studies. Umbridge had been breathing down his neck and just yesterday he heard a rumor about Cho Chang and Ginny Weasley getting into a shouting match over him. He shifted his backpack again and began towards the dormitories, cursing himself for letting DA practice run so late that he had missed dinner by studying in the library again. He hadn't realized he reached the common room until the Fat Lady cleared her throat.

"Password?" She asked with a hint of distrust in her voice. Ever since she had been attacked by Sirius two years ago she didn't trust anyone that approached her portrait. Just as Harry was about to answer, the portrait swung violently towards him – revealing a visibly angry Hermione, her arms filled with books and her eyes red, as if she'd been crying.

"HARRY!" She cried out, stepping through the portrait. "You scared me!" She smacked his chest lightly and adjusted her stack of books.

"Have you been crying?" Harry asked quietly, knowing too well the portraits loved nothing more than gossiping about the Hogwarts students. Hermione refused to make eye contact with him, shuffling her feet and not answering. "You can tell me, Hermione. You know, if you want to just talk."

Her lip quivered and tears filled her eyes again, he stared into them reading the unspoken message and nodded his head slightly. Harry reached out and grabbed her books and put them in his bag. Taking her hand he began leading her up the stairs.

They walked silently until they reached the seemingly normal hallway on the seventh floor, and passed a small stretch of wall three times. On their third pass, a quaint door appeared; Harry reached out and turned the golden knob, gesturing for Hermione to enter.

Inside candles lined the walls, a fireplace roared to life and the door clicked behind them. An oversized couch sat in front of the fireplace, with a knitted blanket draped over the back. There were books lining the walls and bell sitting on a table.

"Come on Hermione, you need to relax." Harry set his bag down and sat down onto the couch, pulling Hermione down with him. The tension seemed to fade slightly as she sank into the plush sofa.

"Oh Harry," she began, her eyes beginning to water again. "It's nothing. I just, I don't know if I can do all this."

"Do what?" Harry grabbed a box of tissues that had appeared seconds earlier, handing one to sad eyed witch in front of him. He listened as she began telling him about her school courses, running SPEW, how she felt like she always had to be the responsible one. He knew how she felt, most days he felt as if he was going to crush from the weight of an unseen burden on his shoulders.

Silently Harry pulled Hermione into his chest and smoothed her hair. He rested his head on hers; thinking about how much his best friend was struggling. He wished there was something he could do for her – she was always doing things for him. Always watching out for him, making sure he was eating and studying and having the faith in him that he could never find within himself.

"Hermione? You know, you don't have to do it all alone," he whispered. "I'll always be here for you, to help you however I can. You're my best friend. I hate to see you like this."

She sat up slightly, "Harry, thank you. I tried talking to Ron earlier and he told me that I worry too much and then asked for help with his Divination homework! Honestly!" She lay back down on the couch, putting her head in his lap. "And don't think I didn't see that look on your face either. What's going on Harry?"

He didn't know whether or not to tell her about what had really been bothering him: that Cho and Ginny were both dropping hints to him about their feelings for him or though he may have felt something for them before, there was another witch that had stolen his heart and she didn't even think of him like that.

"Well, I don't really know how to say this," he stated nervously. He almost jumped when Hermione took his hand, gently rubbing her thumb against his palm, silently urging him to continue. He let out a small sigh. "How do you just tell a girl that you're not interested in her, romantically? I mean, without hurting her feelings or being rude? I can't figure it out."

Hermione let out a small laugh and looked up at him, her brown eyes twinkling in the firelight. "Harry – if you can figure out the answer to that question, defeating Voldemort will be a breeze!"

"Be serious Hermione, I don't know what to do. I mean, I don't even know why they'd want to be with me? I'm just Harry." He said twining his fingers with hers. He never realized how soft her skin was, it was a stark contrast to the callused, rough skin that years of Quidditch had given his hands. Fascinated by this, he kept rubbing his thumb against hers as he waited for her to speak.

The friction of their skin was overpowering and Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. How was she supposed to concentrate when he was making her skin tingle? Staring at their hands together, she marveled at how comfortable her hand felt in his, how small her hands looked compared to his and how the firelight gave his skin a soft glow.

The air grew thick as the green-eyed boy waited for his best friend to finish her thoughts.

"Harry, you don't see it, do you?" Her quiet words broke the silence and she looked into the fire. "You're brilliant Harry, an amazing wizard, one of the best that Hogwarts has ever seen. Watching you play Quidditch is hypnotizing – you have such grace on that broom. When you're teaching the DA Harry, you certainly show how strong and knowledgeable you are, and that you can command a room and teach others. And Harry, you're probably the most handsome boy in our year, most likely our school. Girls are going to notice…"

Her voice trailed off, fearing she'd revealed too much of what she saw in him. What she hadn't told him was that she couldn't bare to think about another girl looking at him the way she did, or that when he was really excited about something, his eyes turned the most jaw-dropping shade of green she'd ever seen. Or how she loved that his hair would never stay in place, no matter how much he tried to make it.

Closing her eyes she turned her head slightly, hoping the heat from the fireplace would explain the flushed look on her face. Harry stared down at the perplexing witch lying on his lap. He saw her lip tremble slightly; a sign that she wasn't telling him everything and the deep coloring on her cheeks wasn't all from the fire. Without thinking he ran his thumb over her lip, stilling it instantly.

Her skin was impossibly softer here and he could only imagine what it would be like to actually kiss her. He quickly drew his hand away, but the sensation of her skin on his was still there.

"Besides, there's someone who I… I think I've fallen in love with, and I don't know how to win her over. I don't think she even notices me." He said dejectedly, looking at the object of his affections as she bit down softly on her bottom lip, and ran his hand through his hair.

"You really are fanciable, more so than ever. Anyone would be lucky to be your girlfriend. You just have to ask. So, who is it? Is it Cho Chang – you know she's always had her eye on you, and she is beautiful…" Her voice shook slightly as she sat up, pretending to smooth her skirts.

"Not as beautiful as you Hermione." The words left his mouth before he realized what had happened. He could feel his cheeks turning red and stared straight ahead into the fireplace, terrified to look elsewhere.

"You don't have to say that Harry, I know I'm nothing too special to look at, especially not compared to Cho." Hermione replied, looking at the space now between them.

Before she realized what had happened, Harry was on top of her, his hand cupping her face and his nose barely touching hers.

"Hermione, I think it's you who doesn't see." Gently he rubbed his nose against hers, and closed his eyes. She gasped and clutched her skirt, her knuckles turning white from the force of her grip. His eyes opened slowly as she took a shaky breath and forced herself to look at him.

"You're perfect Hermione. You have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met, I've never seen anyone as passionate as you – whether it's school or SPEW or your friends or family, and you have so much heart. Merlin sakes Hermione, when you're in the same room as me, I can't concentrate on anything but you. And don't you ever compare yourself to Cho." He pulled away slowly, staring into her eyes, watching as the fire danced in them, their chocolate depths pulling him in stronger than ever. "You're so much more than her."

As the words left his mouth, he gently brushed his lips against hers, testing the waters, making sure this is what she wanted.

"Harry…" a breathy whisper left her as she slowly licked her lips. "Please don't joke like this."

His fingers traced her jaw, down to her neck and gently gripped the back of her neck. "Hermione, I would never joke about this, especially with you." With that he finally pressed his lips against hers in the most exquisite kiss they'd ever experienced. Despite the warmth of the room, his lips were cool compared to hers, and she was pleasantly surprised at how soft his lips actually had been.

She reached up and fingered the collar on his shirt, letting her hand trail down to grab his tie. Smiling, her lips never left his as she pulled him in closer to her. Their kiss seemed to last ages, and when they finally broke apart, the flushed looks on both their faces had nothing to do with the fire.


End file.
